A prose poem I wrote in thinking of my wife.

HOME IS HER



Home to me has beautiful dark brown hair,
Luscious and full lips; which when kissed leave
Me intoxicated and drowsy, but wanting more.
They are the doorway to bliss, for which I surrender.

Home has a mouth, that when smiling challenges
The beauty of perfection and reveals a string
Of brilliantly fashioned pearls from the Treasure-room
Of the lost and ancient city of Atlantis.

Home has magnificently amazing deep blue green eyes;
Two perfectly formed oceans set within her delicate head.
Above them- lashes that mesmerize with every batting-wink;
Butterfly kisses that start passion-fires deep in my soul.

Home has a soft neck that bids me to kiss and enjoy,
It is a tower of masterfully designed engineering;
Holding her mind, an intellectual marvel, and her body of
Mystery, and awe (my Paradise) together in a perfect unity.

Home has a birth mark on her stomach; a small island
In the midst of a wondrously blemish-less golden ocean.
The island is only a small harbor, but it is a place of beauty
And awe- and I am the only explorer to have discovered it.

Home has an elegant back of royal lineage,
It is the framework of the Great Architect, a masterpiece set
Aside for queens and princesses; each sun-kissed freckle comes
Together to map the Cosmos in all its starry splendor.

Within my Home I have placed my heart, and my trust.
In my Home I have found rest, I have found peace, I have found comfort.
Within my Home I have placed all that is valuable to me.
In my Home I have found wealth- untainted, undiscovered, and immeasurable.

I trust that my children will be safe and unconditionally loved in my Home.
I take joy in the faithfulness, refuge, and constance that I find in my Home.
I see a beautiful future looking out through the windows of my Home.
I feel the reality of a tangible forever in the climate of my Home.

My Home’s interior is decorated with the radiant, warm, and magical colors of the joy and innocence of my butterfly angel child. Her smile paints the walls with unrestrained brilliance.

The art that embellishes the rooms of my Home comes from the magnificently creative mind of my young artist. His hand of creativity and eye for making the imagined something wondrously tangible, enhances even the most insignificant structures into significant pieces of architectural genius.

Home is where my heart is. Home is where my treasures are enjoyed.
Home is where my past is settled, my present is healed, and my future marinates. Home is where I am alive. It is where I thieve, it is freedom.

Home is her: Diane.